Hidden Fires
by LilTigre
Summary: When Kusanagi falls ill after an Aragami attack, it's up to Momiji and the TAC to save him... but the shadows of his memory may be too strong for even the Kushinada's love to overcome. NEW- Chapter 5 WARNING: contains graphic scenes of child abuse! WARNIN
1. Default Chapter

*~* Hidden Fires *~*  
  
Note: the events of this story occur just before Vol. 10: Fate & Destiny.  
  
Chapter 1: Enslaved to a Dream  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Some possible dream, long coiled in the ammonite's slumber/  
Is uncurling, preparing to lay on our talk of kindness/  
Its military silence, its surgeon's idea of pain."  
-W. H. Auden  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Kusanagi Mamoru collapsed in front of the tiny, dilapidated shrine   
hidden deep within the forests outside of Tokyo. Streams of copious green   
blood flowed down his bare chest and dripped onto the worn tatami. His   
breath came in short gasps; a gaping wound in his side seemed to suck in and   
out with every breath. *Damn you, Murakumo,* he cursed mentally, dragging  
himself painfully up the steps into the Shinto temple. *How did you do it?   
How did you brainwash Kaede into helping you, you demonic bastard?*  
  
Kusanagi had been hot on the trio's trail ever since he had seen  
Kaede during the rebirth of the god Susano-oh. Just that morning, he had  
finally found where they had been hiding and had broken into their cavern.  
Somehow, the tiny infant god had created horrific monsters to fend him  
off. After hours of struggle, he had finally won; but during the fight Kaede  
and Murakumo had somehow slipped away. Even now, one image burned   
in his tormented mind: the image of Kaede solemnly watching him as one of   
the Aragami stabbed him in the chest . . . .  
  
"Kaede," he groaned, collapsing in a heap in front of the altar. He  
could feel his wounds tingle as his superhuman healing powers began to  
kick in; his strength vanished as his body tapped into his already strained  
energy reserves. "Why . . . why . . . ?" His slitted eyes drooped shut as he  
succumbed to his weariness; the last thought that drifted thorugh his mind  
before he collapsed was, *Kaede . . . Momiji . . . be all right . . . . *  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Soft sobbing could be heard echoing through a small, deserted alley in  
the hotel district. "Please, let me go," the young woman whimpered softly as the  
shadowed men crouched around her. She clutched the remnants of her blouse   
over her battered, bleeding body; despite being raped and beaten, she was still  
trying to keep a shred of dignity. "Please . . . . "  
  
One man knelt beside her and ran a bloodied finger down her chest.   
"We're not done with you yet," the rough voice hissed. "Not yet . . . . "  
  
Her eyes grew wide with terror as he lifted a gleaming foot-long knife  
over her throat. "Now . . . *now* we're done," he smirked, plunging the blade  
into her throat.  
  
The last thing she saw before dying was the throbbing red mitama  
buried in the man's forehead.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The hideous Aragami-mantis reared up on its hind legs and let out  
a supersonic roar as the bazooka fire slammed into its abdomen. "All  
RIGHT!" Sawaguchi Koume cheered, shaking her now-empty gun at the monster.  
  
"Koume! Takeuchi! Hold your fire!!" Matsudaira Azusa, the  
TAC's leading scientist, picked up a printout from the laptop computer and  
scanned it hurriedly. "We can't risk destroying the Aragami in its current  
state!"  
  
Takeuchi Ryouko, from her position with the Ground Self-Defense Forces   
across the field, asked through the intercom, "Why not? What's wrong, Matsu?"   
  
Yaegashi Yoshiki spoke up from his position in front of the computer.  
"The Aragami's bodily fluids are made up of an extremely alkaline substance. If  
those fluids were to leak out onto the surrounding area, all life in this  
area would be wiped out!"  
  
"To destroy it," Matsudaira continued, "we're going to have to  
neutralize the alkaline substances in its body. We should, however, be  
able to eliminate it once the new vector weapon gets here."  
  
Koume and Takeuchi raced back to where the main group was  
standing. "So what are we gonna do till then?" Koume demanded.  
  
A jeep suddenly swerved towards the group, Kunikida  
Daitetsu at the wheel. It squealed to a stop in front of them; Fujimiya  
Momiji popped out of the back of the jeep, her arms filled with assorted  
materials. "Here's the supplies you wanted, Mrs. Matsudaira!" She handed  
the older woman a large bottle filled with a clear substance and a specialized  
hypodermic needle that was over half the teen's height.  
  
"Thank you, Momiji," the scientist replied, pulling on a pair of  
chemical gloves. "Takeuchi, distract the Aragami while I load this  
into the rocket launcher!"  
  
As the sharpshooter ran back out, her guns blazing, Matsudaira  
carefully poured the the liquid into the hypo and hurriedly shut the lid, loading it  
into a specialized rocket launcher. "Koume, you need to aim for a place containing  
a large amount of bodily fluids. Be quick; I don't know how long it will be before  
the acid eats through the hypodermic needle!"  
  
"No problem, Matsu!" Koume ran back out into the battlefield,  
aiming at the monster. Dropping to one knee, she fired; the explosion knocked  
her flat on the ground. Fortunately, the shot was true; the rocket/hypo soared  
through the air and lodged itself into the monster's eye. Almost  
immediately, poisonous fumes began billowing from the Aragami's body; it  
shuddered and roared one last time as its body began to dissolve. Huge  
chunks of smoldering plant-flesh began to fall from the monster as it was  
being digested from the inside out. The Aragami swayed unsteadily, then  
began to fall directly towards the jeep where Kunikida and Momiji were  
waiting-  
  
A strong pair of arms grasped the both of them around the waist  
and yanked them out of the car just before the Aragami smashed the jeep  
flat. The person carrying them suddenly stumbled, flinging them across   
the field. "Owww..." Momiji moaned as Kunikida helped her up from where she  
had landed. "What happened - Kusanagi! *Kusanagi*!!"  
  
Momiji pushed the TAC head aside and dashed towards the prostrate   
figure laying on the ground. Her Aragami-created protector raised his head  
slightly and stared at her through unfocused eyes; a thin trickle of green blood   
oozed from the corner of his mouth, and his body seemed to radiate heat. "Are . . .   
are you OK, Momiji?" he gasped weakly.  
  
"Kusanagi, what's wrong? What's happened to you?!?" She struggled to  
help him up, then pulled back as he screamed in agony. Her hands came back  
stained verdant, dripping with his blood. "Kusanagi?"  
  
His eyes slowly fluttered closed as his breathing became  
even more shallow. "Mo . . . mi . . . ji . . . ."  
  
"No . . . . " Momiji was pushed aside as the team gathered him up into  
the truck, Matsu barking orders at them as she pulled out her extensive  
first-aid kit. "Kusanagi . . . . "  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Matsudaira quietly shut the door leading into the TAC's  
mini-infirmary. Her face was studiously set in a neutral expression; she avoided  
looking directly at the team. "I've run just about every test I can, and I still can't  
isolate the main cause of Kusanagi's illness," she said softly. "Of course, the  
tests are designed with a *human* patient in mind, so . . . ." The scientist folded  
herself into a nearby chair and sighed a bit, the only indication she would ever  
give of frustration.  
  
"What about his other injuries?" Kunikida asked, passing  
Matsudaira a small cup of hot tea.  
  
"Well, I've stitched up the wounds in his chest and shoulder as best  
I can, but what puzzles me most is that they should be healing up on their own.  
From what we've seen, it would seem that Kusanagi has extraordinary  
powers of regeneration; for some reason, possibly due to this illness, his  
self-healing powers are not working." She paused to sip some of the tea. "If he  
doesn't improve within the next forty-eight hours, I'll have to put him in  
surgery to repair the damage."  
  
"Um . . . Mrs. Matsudaira?" The team turned to look at Momiji. Her  
normally cheerful demeanor was wiped away, leaving her withdrawn and  
unusually quiet. Her face was drawn with worry; her eyes were shimmering  
with unshed tears. "Is . . . is Kusanagi going to be all right?"  
  
"I can't say for sure, but," and the older woman laid a gentle  
hand on the teen's shoulder, "Kusanagi was in excellent health before  
this. That improves the odds quite a bit. And Koume and Yaegashi are at  
the hospital now picking up some medications that should help him."  
  
"We can get him the best help in the nation, right, Matsu?"  
Takeuchi spoke up, trying to be helpful. Her words fell flat in the tense  
silence.  
  
Momiji suddenly stood up, clenching her hands into fists. "Could  
I . . . go in and see him?" she asked in a tightly controlled voice.  
  
"Of course, Momiji-" The teen disappeared through the door before  
waiting for an answer.  
  
The trio sat in silence for several seconds before Kunikida finally  
spoke up. "So what *are* the odds of Kusanagi making it, Matsudaira?"  
He leaned forward intently, his voice lowered so that no one in  
another room could hear.  
  
The scientist glanced at him, them lowered her eyes to the table. "The  
best we can do now . . . . is pray," she said.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Murakumo paced the concrete floor of the abandoned warehouse,  
idly studying the five humans in front of him. Each man's face was blank;  
the red mitama buried in each of their foreheads glowed slightly in the  
darkness. "You've done your jobs fairly well, considering how inferior you  
humans are," the Aragami reluctantly conceded, casually slipping a long  
platinum blade out from his forearm. "But it's a shame . . . you five have  
outlived your usefulness."  
  
There was a sudden flash of silver, five arcs of blood spewed into  
the air, and five severed heads tumbled to the floor. Murakumo studied the  
carnage blandly as he withdrew the blade; in his hand was the five red  
mitamas that had previously been within the humans. "Soon, imperfect soul,"  
he smirked as he walked away, "soon we will be rid of you . . . forever!"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The darkened infirmary was deathly quiet inside; the only sounds  
were of the forest of monitors clicking and humming. Kusanagi's labored  
breathing, barely audible over the machines, was a chilling reminder to the  
teenaged Kushinada of the severity of the situation. She hesitated just beside  
the door, then forced herself to step further inside. *Kusanagi,* she  
thought, *what happened to you? It hurts so much to see you like this....*  
  
A low groan snapped her out of her thoughts. She instantly threw  
aside her fears and rushed to his side. "Kusanagi?"  
  
There was no answer; the teenager leaned forward slightly, for the  
first time actually seeing the extent of his injuries. His bronzed skin  
was several shades lighter than normal, the result of prolonged blood  
loss. A blood-stained bandage wound around his right shoulder and  
continued around his abdomen. The mitamas on his chest throbbed with  
a sickly blue glow. Momiji gently reached out and brushed a stray lock of  
his hair from his gaunt face; the heat of his skin was intense, almost scalding.  
She abruptly withdrew her hand. *What am I doing? If he caught me-*  
The thought was broken off by another glance down on him. His face was  
contorted in pain, yet behind the pain seemed to linger a type of sadness  
that made her heart ache. "Oh, Kusanagi . . . . I'm so sorry . . . . "  
  
A tear slipped down her cheek and splashed onto the man's bare  
chest. She loved him so fiercely that it made her soul ache; seeing him  
now was almost more than she could bear. Momiji leaned forward slightly,  
hesitantly, her lips trembling. "I love you, Kusanagi . . . please be all  
right . . . . " Trembling even harder, she took one of his hands in her own and  
laid it against her cheek, letting her tears run against it. "Please . . . . "  
  
Outside the windows of the TAC, a single cherry blossom drifted in  
the wind.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
*~* The delicate scent of cherry blossoms was completely nullified by  
the overwhelming odor of fresh blood. The grass in front of the tiny shrine was  
soaked in crimson; two corpses lay sprawled and dismembered across the  
lawn. The priest's body was draped over the shrine steps, half of the sacred  
mirror sticking through the man's neck. Everything that was holy had been  
violated by the spirits of death.  
  
Sitting just in front of the gory scene was a quietly awed infant. Young  
Kusanagi Mamoru, just turned a year old, stared up at the wavering eight-headed,  
plant-like Aragami known as Yamata-no-Orochi with open curiosity. He was too  
little to comprehend his parents' deaths; he just knew that there had been  
screaming, then his parents collapsed to the ground, and then a metallic stench  
that could almost be tasted filled the air. The silence was marred only be the  
soft hissing of the giant demon wavering in front of him.  
  
"Kusanagi . . . . " it hissed; the infant gaped at it, recognizing his name.  
"I shall give you seven of my family's souls; use them to grow strong and protect  
the princess Kushinada . . . . " Seven of its heads arced high into the air, pointing  
directly at the child. Faster than the eye could see, the monster's heads plunged  
down and into the child's body. The bright blue glow seared into his flesh; three  
gleaming beads implanted themselves in his chest, while the other four embedded  
themselves into his hands and feet.  
  
Instantly, the infant's body began changing. His pupils pulled themselves  
into cat-like slits; his skin flashed into an orange-copper color; his thick mop of  
shaggy black hair turned deep green. His internal organs were forcefully altered  
by the invading mitamas, some developing new parts while others disappeared.  
Yamata-no-Orochi's remaining head leaned back and laughed as its creation  
began bawling; it snatched the child up in its tentacles and melted back into the  
forest.  
  
The last sound to be heard before the Aragami slipped completely out  
of sight was an infant's agonized cries. *~*  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Matsudaira quietly opened the door into the infirmary; Koume followed  
her, packing an immense cooler. The scientist flicked on an overhead light and  
advanced into the room. Momiji was sitting protectively next to Kusanagi, one  
of his hands gripped in hers. Startled, she glared at the women for a second  
before recognizing them. "Mrs. Matsudaira, Koume! I . . . I wasn't expecting-"  
  
"Hey, Momiji, we got the stuff right here." Koume dumped the cooler  
onto a nearby table. "Damn, that thing's heavy!" She paused uneasily to look  
at Matsudaira; at some unknown signal, she backed up and said, "Look, guys,  
I'm due for target practice . . . . Momiji, if you need a ride or want to, you know,  
hang out, tell me sometime, OK?"  
  
The teen smiled slightly at her friend's clumsy but pure-hearted attempt.  
"Thanks, Koume," she said, "but I think I'll stay here for a while. Y'know, just in  
case . . . . " She watched her go, then turned to the other woman. "What is that,  
Mrs. Matsudaira?"  
  
Matsudaira sighed and opened up the container; mists from the dry ice  
inside veiled her face from view. "There are some antibiotics and other  
medications in here, but I can't give a guarantee that they'll work." When Momiji  
looked up at her, she hastily explained, "Until I run a few more tests to find out  
the cause of this illness, anything I give him now is just to alleviate the symptoms."  
  
"Is there anything I can do? I mean, to help out?"  
  
Matsudaira looked over her shoulder at the worried teenager, then  
nodded. "Of course, Momiji. Why don't you get the IV stand out of the closet  
for me?"  
  
"Okay." She reluctantly let go of her protector's hand and walked over  
to the closet. Her mind was on anything but the task at hand; she absently  
yanked too hard on the IV stand and-  
  
*CRASH*  
  
The older woman quickly turned around to look at the tangled heap   
in the floor. "Are you all right, Momiji?" she asked, helping the teen to her feet.  
  
"I'm . . . I'm fine, I'm just so clumsy . . . . " She stuffed the rest of the  
junk back into the closet as Matsudaira began setting up the IV. The scientist  
worked quietly, muttering to herself under her breath. Momiji had to strain to  
make out what she was saying.  
  
" . . . . negative test results . . . . need a blood transfusion . . . . contact  
botany department . . . . maybe a broad-spectrum antimicrobal? Need a  
biopsy . . . ." She paused to look up at the teen. "You may want to step out  
for a minute. I have to change the dressings on Kusanagi's wounds, and it . . .  
it's not a pretty sight. I really think-"  
  
"I'm staying."  
  
The flat tone of Momiji's voice told Matsudaira that there was no  
changing the teen's mind. She sighed again and motioned for the teen to sit down.  
"All right then," she accepted, drawing on a pair of sterile gloves. She  
methadotically began unwinding the bandage from the young man's shoulder;  
the teen had to turn away as the last strip of gauze peeled away from the wound.  
The ragged, six-inch-long wound was swollen and oozing with infection.  
Matsudaira calmly began washing the laceration as Momiji tried to settle her  
stomach. The silence was deafening.  
  
Finally, as Matsudaira finished rewrapping the wound, she turned  
to the teen and sat down beside her hesitantly. The dread in the woman's  
face was evident. "Momiji, we need to talk about Kusanagi."  
  
"He's really sick, isn't he?" The scientist nodded. "I never thought  
anything like this would happen. I mean, he's always bounced right back  
every other time he gets hurt . . . . But he'll be all right now, won't he? After all,  
we're giving him medicine and-"  
  
"Momiji." The sadness in Matsudaira's eyes made the teen stop in her  
tracks. "I didn't want to be the one to tell you this, but . . . . "  
  
"What?" She leaned forward, a small seed of fear blooming in her heart.  
"What is it? You've got to tell me!"  
  
The scientist swallowed heavily, then bowed low to the girl. "I'm sorry,  
Momiji, but I- I don't think Kusanagi's going to live through this."  
  
Momiji sank down in her chair, tears welling in her eyes. "You mean . . . Kusanagi's going to . . . to die?" She stared at the man she loved, watching the  
slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathed; then, with a sudden ferocity, she  
snapped, "No way! I'm not going to let him die! He's come through worse  
things than this before; I believe in him! He can't die . . . . I- I never told him  
that I love him . . . . " Tears began to roll down her cheeks. She brushed them  
aside angrily and begged, "Please, Mrs. Matsudaira . . . . How can I help him  
get better?"  
  
The older woman started to protest, then finally relented. "Come with  
me; I'll show you how to monitor him . . . . "  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Kunikida Kaede, the Aragami-appointed Kushinada, gently laid the  
infant god Susano-oh down on a tiny futon to sleep. "Will we now be able to  
rid ourselves of the other Kushinada?" she asked the figure lurking in the  
shadows of the cave as she stood up.  
  
"Of course," Murakumo said arrogantly. "Though why you insist on  
saving that imerfect soul Kusanagi is beyond me." He paused, his eyes  
narrowing dangerously as his voice took on a possessive, almost jealous tone.  
"Are you still pining after that fool?"  
  
"No, I'm not!" Kaede whirled on the Aragami, a fierce light in her eyes.  
"I just don't see it necessary to kill off what could be a valuable asset to our  
cause."  
  
Murakumo looked skeptical. "Very well, then," he sighed, "but the  
*minute* he tries to fight me . . . . "  
  
" . . . . You will neutralize him *without* killing him! Now leave before  
you disturb the slumber of our lord." She settled down to sleep on the floor of   
the cavern, not even sparing him another look.  
  
The Aragami bowed once to the god, then left the chamber. *Only  
with the death of that imperfect soul can the Aragami rise again,* he snarled  
mentally, pulling the deformed red mitamas out of his pocket. *I don't care  
what you want, Kushinada, but I will kill him one way or another!*  
  



	2. Chapter 2- Child of Shadows

*~* Hidden Fires *~*  
  
Chapter 2: Child of Shadows  
  
*~*  
  
"Do you hear the children weeping, O my brothers/  
Ere the sorrow comes with years?"  
- Elizabeth Barret Browning  
  
*~*  
  
Momiji dipped the soft cloth into the basin of ice water; gently wringing out most of the water, she watched as the droplets formed little ripples in the water's surface. Kusanagi's fever had risen dangerously high over the past few hours, and none of the medications that Matsudaira had given him were working. He had reacted so badly to so many of the drugs that she was afraid to give him anything else. So until Matsudaira could find a better solution, Momiji was charged with sponging him down with ice water in the remote chance that it would break the fever.  
  
She dipped the end of the rag back into the basin and let the water drip onto his bare chest. The teen watched the droplets roll over his copper skin, tracing the contour of every muscle; she brushed them away just before the water could soak into the bandages that wrapped his torso. Taking another bit of cloth, Momiji soaked it in the icy water for a minute before draping it over his forehead. He shivered and moaned softly from the depths of his coma. Her heart seemed to leap into her throat as she moved closer to him. "Kusanagi? Can you hear me?"  
  
There was no answer; Momiji sighed heavily and returned to her task.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
The next three years of Kusanagi's life was spent in training with his inhuman master. The morning of his transformation was but a dim memory in his mind; every waking moment was spent in endless training. Not a day passed that he didn't feel the sting of his master's punishment; not a day went by that he didn't curl up to sleep totally exhausted from continual sparring. His four-year-old mind was continually infused with blind knowledge of survival tactics and information on modern weaponry and technology. At night, or what passed as night in that solitary world, his mind would reel with strange, distorted memories of the past. There was no human contact, no understanding of the normal life that he had been torn from.   
  
Many children in such an environment would have given themselves totally to the nightmare. Kusanagi was an exception; there was a streak of rebelliousness in him that kept him from breaking under the pressure. He fought, not out of necessity, but of a subconscious need to free himself from the constraints of slavery. One day, he was pushed beyond all limits.  
  
That was the day Orochi discovered the might of a child's will.  
  
Sixteen hours had gone into the demon's latest training of his 'pupil'; sixteen long hours of endless fighting and dodging all to the purpose of making Kusanagi develop control of his powers. Sixteen hours - and the child had not manifested any power beyond that of a few meager ki blasts. Orochi lashed out, openly frustrated at the lack of progress. The child barely managed to dodge the flying tentacle before crashing into a craggy stalactite. *Try it again,* Yamata-no-Orochi hissed, it's huge head wavering in front of the boy.  
  
Kusanagi stared up at his master. A strange fire seemed to burn in the child's eyes, a flame of pure hatred. Fighting his exhaustion, he stood up and turned his back on the Aragami. "No!" he shouted defiantly. "I don't wanna!"  
  
*What?!?* Orochi's eyes narrowed into angry slits; one long tentacle whirled the child around to stare at it face-to-face. *What did you say to me?*  
  
"I said no!" He sniffled a little and wiped his eyes with one grubby little hand. "Sleepy . . . . Wanna go to bed!"  
  
The Aragami wrapped a tentacle around the child's throat and lifted him over three stories high to eye level. *You will do as I say, little toy,* it growled, slowly throttling him. *You will do AS I TELL YOU!!!*  
  
"Stop it - " Kusanagi grunted, struggling mightily to loosen the grip. Nothing seemed to faze the monster; he finally sunk his teeth into the appendage around his throat, tearing away a chunk of flesh in a spray of blood.   
  
*You little bastard . . . ! * The Aragami's eyes flashed bright red; suddenly, every mitama on the boy's body began pulsating in an eerie blue light. Daggers of pain shot up his arms and legs; the three mitamas on his chest seemed to sear through his flesh down to the bone. He screamed in agony as wave after wave of spasms ripped through him. The mitamas on his hands blazed bright like miniature suns; twin blades split his forearms and snapped into place. After what seemed an eternity, the pain began to fade away and his shrieks died down into helpless sobs.  
  
*Good.* The monster appraised the child, grasping one arm in a slick tentacle and prodding at the sword that jutted out. *Remember this well, and always be prepared to attack with your weapons. Now go and gather your strength for the next exercise.* It unceremoniously dropped him to the floor, where he lay for several seconds before struggling to his feet.  
  
*Kusanagi?* The child turned; one thick tentacle lashed out and backhanded the four-year-old, knocking him across the cavern. *Never even THINK of disobeying me again, boy,* Orochi snarled as the child picked himself back up. He stared up at it, tears finally falling down his bruised face, then turned and fled the cavern. *~*  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Momiji?" The teen glanced up from her tender ministrations to see Kunikida standing in the doorway. "It's almost midnight; why don't you let me drive you home so you can get some sleep?"  
  
The basin of water slipped from her hands to splash onto the floor. "What? But - but I can't just leave him like this! I promised Mrs. Matsudaira that I'd watch over him! Besides," and she fought back the tears, "I can't go . . . something might happen to him, and then I'd never . . . never get to tell him . . . . "  
  
Kunikida sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew that she would eventually drift to sleep; what good would it do to let her wear herself out? He watched her lovingly shift the sheets around Kusanagi's still form and couldn't bring himself to deny her request. She couldn't be anywhere but by his side. Separating the two of them could be fatal; the young man needed all the strength and support he could get to survive. "All right, then," the older man conceded, "but you have to promise to at least *try* to get some sleep. Making yourself sick won't help him any."  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Kunikida," she whispered, forcing a faint smile. The head of the TAC nodded heavily and stepped outside the infirmary, easing the door behind him shut.  
  
"How is she?"  
  
Kunikida turned to see Matsudaira sitting in front of her computer, a test tube in one hand and a sheaf of paper in the other. The harsh light of the screen accentuated the intense scowl she wore on her face. She punched a few more keys, then leaned back to look at her boss. "Well? How is she holding up?"  
  
He shook his head and walked towards her. "She won't leave his side. I can't refuse her that - she really cares for him, and that's something I don't think Kaede ever knew - " He cleared his throat abashedly and changed the subject. "Matsudaira, do you *really* think that Kusanagi won't survive this? I can't believe that something as simple as a virus could put him down."  
  
"And you would be right. It's not a virus; there is no microorganism *or* parasite infecting him right now." She pulled up a few files and pointed at the screen. "Something is keeping his body from repairing his injuries. His healing rate right now is only about a quarter that of a normal human being's." Her fingers danced over the keyboard, bringing up a new set of images. "Whatever it is also is making his immune system attack the healthy tissue around his heart and lungs."  
  
Kunikida paused. "Around the heart . . . . That's where he was stabbed, wasn't it? In that area?"  
  
Matsudaira nodded wearily. "I've never seen any sort of disorder that would cause such specialized damage; the only thing I can think of that could even resemble this type of disorder is a genetically engineered organism, and there is nothing infecting him now." She pushed herself away from the computer and slumped in her chair. "And since he has such severe reactions to normal medications, I can't give him anything to alleviate the fever or the pain . . . . "  
  
"So there is no hope for him."  
  
She turned to him. "That's what I thought at first," she admitted softly, "but Momiji believes in him despite the problems we've had. She has faith in him, and the ability to cling to hope . . . and that was something I had lost sight of. She showed me what hope really means." She sighed and looked him straight in the face. "Momiji has faith that he will recover - and so do I."  
  
Kunikida nodded once, decisively. "And I believe in the both of you," he said.   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"There you are."  
  
Murakumo stepped back to admire his next victim. The serpent center at the zoo was silent save for the occasional warning hiss; it was if every snake knew instinctively to avoid the intruder. He had made certain that there would be no intruders. The slumped bodies of the security guards were testament to that fact.   
  
The Aragami had paused in front of a single terrarium. A coiled shadow inside stirred slightly at his approach; it slithered up to the glass, hissing loudly. Murakumo smiled slightly as he watched the king cobra strike at him, the snake's venom dripping down the glass panel. "You'll do nicely," he said. Lengthening one fingernail into a sharpened claw, he traced a circle around the glass and let the piece fall and shatter on the floor. As fast as the eye could see, the cobra lunged for him; quicker than that, his hand wrapped itself around the snake's head. "Nicely, indeed . . . . "  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The fax machine began buzzing and shooting out papers at the same time that the phone began to ring. Matsudaira looked up blearily from her report; Kunikida had at some point during the night drifted to sleep in his chair. She sighed and picked up the phone. "TAC, Matsudaira speaking . . . . What?!? Yes, sir! We're on our way!" She shot up out of her seat and rushed to the boss's side. "Mr. Kunikida!!" She shook the man awake roughly. "There's an Aragami attacking near Yokohama!"  
  
He snapped awake, instantly alert. "An Aragami? Go get Momiji; I'll page the others!"  
  
Matsudaira nodded and burst into the infirmary. Momiji had fallen asleep at Kusanagi's bedside. The teenaged princess's head rested on his uninjured shoulder; one arm was flung over his chest in a sleepy embrace. The remnants of her tears streaked the young man's orange skin. "Momiji! Momiji, wake up!" the older woman barked, shaking the girl.  
  
She bolted awake. "Huh? Wha- what's going on? Is Kusanagi all right?!?"  
  
"It's not that; an Aragami has been sighted just outside of Tokyo! Hurry up!"  
  
Momiji nodded grimly and, taking in one last look at the comatose man beside her, jumped up. "I'll be right with you!" she said.  
  
When the woman left, she walked over and paused for a moment at the closet. Kusanagi's tattered red trenchcoat hung forlornly on the inside of the door; in a flash of inspiration, she grabbed it and slipped it on.  
  
"Momiji, come on!"  
  
"Coming!" She glanced over at the corner of the room, checking his vital signs one last time. "I'll be right back . . . . Hang on, Kusanagi," she whispered as she shut the door.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Momiji huddled in the corner of the van as the TAC raced towards the site, ignoring the team's excited chatter. She drew the collar of the oversized trenchcoat up around her face; having it with her was comforting, as though a little piece of him was with her. The coat had the slightest odor of freshly-mown grass, underlined with a trace of sweat. The ragged edges of the sleeves were stained with his foreign blood. She brooded, idly running her fingers over the coat sleeves, until the mitama on her chest began to glow slightly. "It's coming," she breathed, leaning towards the team..   
  
"What?" Takeuchi exclaimed. "Is it close?"  
  
"It's coming towards us . . . . Mr. Kunikida, stop the van! Stop!"  
  
As the van skidded to a halt outside of a dense forest, the trees began to sway and crack under some unseen pressure. Suddenly, a colossal serpent slithered out of the area, hissing maniacally. Gold-tinged venom oozed from its eight foot long fangs; its scales, each the size of a full-grown man, shimmered in the beginning sunrise. The hood around the king cobra's head was ringed with vicious barbs that continued down the sides of its body to end in an immense spike on the tip of its tail. The ground around it was littered with trashed jeeps from the Self-Defense Force and with not a few fresh corpses. Koume leaped out of the van and immediately fired upon it with her bazooka; the charge did little more than knock a few of its scales off. "Damn, that thing's tough!" she shouted.  
  
Yaegashi tumbled out of the van with a huge briefcase, followed by Matsudaira. "Koume, Takeuchi, distract that thing while we get the bio-reactor ready - "   
  
"Your bio-weapons are useless against this creature," a voice taunted the team. They turned to look at the source; a blue ki blast caughtYaegashi in the gut, slamming him into the side of the van.   
  
"Yoshiki!" Koume immediately dropped her bazooka and dashed to his side.  
  
Murakumo hovered in the air above them, watching them contemptuously; he examined the carnage and sneered. "Your struggles are useless, puny humans. You'll never win this war." He paused and laughed. "I see that imperfect soul Kusanagi isn't here with you. Such a shame . . . . "  
  
"What's *that* supposed to mean?" Momiji shouted. She pushed her way to the front, a righteous fury blazing in her eyes.   
  
"It means, princess Kushinada," Murakumo stated, "that soon we will no longer be troubled with that traitor." He smiled slightly as sudden comprehension dawned on the TAC. "His seven souls will slowly destroy him from the inside. A fitting way for him to die."  
  
Livid with rage, Momiji raced out into the field and snatched Koume's discarded bazooka. "I'll NEVER let him die, you. . . you jerk!" she screamed, firing at him. "He won't die! I won't let him!"  
  
Two strong arms suddenly pulled her back, restraining her. "Momiji, no! He'll kill you too!" Kunikida yelled over the din. "Don't fire at him!"  
  
The Aragami laughed again. "Oh, that I wish I could get rid of you. Unfortunately, I don't have a ceramic field set up here." He paused as a mitama on his hand flickered a sickly light; Momiji's mitama glowed slightly in response. "Think about what I have said, humans. Soon, our kingdom, the kingdom of the Aragami, will rule this world again!" His sneering laugh echoed through the air as both he and the snake-Aragami vanished.  
  
The TAC stared after him in confusion. "Why would he leave when he has us at a disadvantage?" Takeuchi wondered aloud, reluctantly putting her revolver away. "It just doesn't make sense."  
  
Kunikida nodded reluctantly and turned to the team; behind him, Yaegashi was struggling to his feet. "I don't have a good feeling about this," he muttered to himself. Then, raising his voice, he said, "Let's get back to the office now before he changes his mind and decides to come back with that thing."  
  
A hand tugged a his sleeve. "Mr. Kunikida, Mrs. Matsudaira, what he said . . . it can't be true, can it?" Momiji begged, tears running down her cheeks. "Please . . . . "  
  
The two could only stare back at her.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"I have set it up as you wanted, although I think you are making a mistake."  
  
Murakumo leaned back against a tree and idly watched as Kaede began a purification ritual for the tiny shrine in the woods. She was dressed in the traditional robes of a *miko*, or Shinto priestess; the infant god Susano-oh was swaddled up and laying in a thick clump of grass, his piercing gaze following every move of the princess Kushinada. "We are here to follow our lord Susano-oh's wishes, not speculate on the reasoning behind his wants," she stated simply.  
  
"Hmmm . . . . " He stepped forward, past Kaede, and touched a spot on the tatami inside. A fleck of dried green blood came off onto his finger. "Now I see why you are performing this ritual. It seems that imperfect soul has been here recently."  
  
She shrugged. "Remove that tatami and replace it with a fresh one. I can have no impurities soiling the bed of our lord." She gathered up several branches from the sacred sakaki tree and waited for him to move before beginning the ritual.  
  
Murakumo leaned back up against his tree, incinerating the blood-stained tatami with an offhand ki blast. "The Aragami cannot wait forever, princess Kushinada," he snarled under his breath. "And we shall *not* wait much longer . . . . "  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Momiji was the first to hear the high-pitched strains of an alarm going off inside the office. She ran for the infirmary and threw open the door -  
  
Kusanagi had somehow tumbled to the floor and was caught in an epileptic fit. The convulsions thrashed his body against the equipment, knocking over several monitors. The violent movements had ripped open his wounds; blood had soaked through the bandages on his torso and was now seeping onto the floor. The teen gasped in horror and dashed to his side, Matsudaira hot on her heels.  
  
Just before they could reach him, his eyes flew open as he let out an inhuman scream of agony. The scream became strangled as verdant blood spewed from his mouth. He choked out another cry as his body arced in mid-air, transfixed by the sudden blinding light of his seven mitamas; suddenly, he gave one final gasp and collapsed to the floor.  
  
The alarms began blaring as the heart monitor faded down into a flat line.  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3- Stigmata/ A Soul in the Ember...

*~* Hidden Fires *~*  
  
Chapter 3: Stigmata / A Soul in the Embers  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"Shattered, adolescent  
Bearer of no name  
Restrained, insane games  
Suffer the children condemned  
  
"Nightmare, the persecution  
A child's dream of death  
Torment, ill forgotten  
A soul that will never rest  
  
"Innocence withdrawn in fear  
Fires burning can you hear  
Cries in the night . . . . "  
  
- Slayer, "Silent Scream"   
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
*It's not working, Matsudaira!!!*" Kunikida roared over the din. His hands were clamped one over the other so tight that his knuckles were pure white; his brow dripped with sweat as he rhythmically pressed his fists into Kusanagi's chest, forcing the blood through the man's body. Takeuchi was crouched beside him, her mouth clamped over the young man's own, propelling vital air into his lungs. The constant, high-pitched whine of the flatlined heart monitor reverberated throughout the room, adding to the urgency of the people inside. "Do something!"  
  
Matsudaira rushed to the bedside, hurriedly tapping the air bubbles out of a large syringe. "Move out of the way!" she ordered, shoving her boss aside. Her graceful fingers prodded the man's ribs until she found a spot not far from a weakly throbbing mitama; she plunged the hypodermic needle through his skin, between the ribs, and straight into his heart. "Keep working at it, Takeuchi! Yaegashi, get me another - "  
  
A single, abnormally rounded heartbeat blipped on the monitor. "Come on," the scientist urged, injecting another round of stimulants into the IV shunt. "Help me out here, Kusanagi - "   
  
A series of the irregular heartbeats flashed across the monitor. Within seconds, the rounded marks began increasing in speed and power until they were flying across the monitor in a blur, sounding off another alarm. "Damn! He's gone into V-tach! Koume, get the paddles *NOW!*"  
  
Koume came flying across the room, pushing a huge machine in front of her. She plugged the contraption in; Matsudaira snatched two huge paddles from the front and rubbed them together. The paddles in her hands crackled and sparked, teeming with electricity. "Yaegashi, charge this thing to half-power!" she bellowed, placing the paddles at ninety-degree angles from each other on Kusanagi's torso. "CLEAR!"  
  
Everyone jumped back from the bed as she pressed the paddles into his chest; the young man's body shuddered as the electric charge surged through him. The reading on the monitor slowed for a brief second, then sped up faster than before. "Three-quarters power! Ready . . . CLEAR!" The machine whined as Kusanagi's unconscious frame recoiled from the shock. The monitor readings spiked once, then flatlined.  
  
"Charge it as high as it will go, Yaegashi!" Matsudaira shouted over the uproar. "If this doesn't work, we'll probably lose him! *CLEAR!!!!!*"  
  
The crackling charge swept through his body. His mitamas flashed an intense white from under the paddles; the added charge raised him almost a foot off the bed as his body was enveloped in a blinding light. Momiji, who had been shoved aside in the confusion, screamed as her mitama flared into life. The corona seemed to reach out with long, beckoning tendrils that enveloped her body and lifted her from the floor. Time stopped as the two floated in the air; then, as suddenly as it had come, the light flickered out of existence. Momiji fell against Yaegashi and Koume, panting heavily; Kusanagi collapsed into the bed with a thud and did not move.  
  
The heart monitor beeped softly, silencing its previous alarms. One small, weak, but normal heartbeat thumped onto the monitor, followed by another, until his heart was beating at a slow, regular rhythm. His mouth parted slightly; the ragged sounds of his breathing accompanied the tone of his heartbeat. Matsudaira dropped the paddles back into their slots and sagged against the machine, suddenly exhausted. "He's all right," she said softly, incredulously. "He's going to live."  
  
Momiji looked up at the older woman from the floor. The color had bled from her face, leaving her deathly pale. "Is he . . ." she barely made out, having to lean up against Yaegashi for support.  
  
Kunikida stepped towards her, his bloodstained hands reaching out to comfort her. "It's going to be all right, Momiji," he told her softly.  
  
The teenaged Kushinada nodded once before fainting dead away.  
  
*~*  
  
Murakumo staggered through the woods, clutching at the mitamas on his chest. The sickly light emitting from them was a harbinger, a warning that something was going wrong. He groaned as the pain began to spread throughout his body, intensifying with each passing second. "Damn," he swore through his teeth. "What's . . . happening . . . . " He reached out to grab hold of a tree branch to steady himself; his hands crushed the wood into splinters as another wave of searing pain ripped through him. "That imperfect soul," he snarled. "This is coming . . . from him . . . . "  
  
"Murakumo? Is everything all right?"  
  
He jerked upright, forcing his voice into a more steady tone. "Everything . . . is fine, princess Kushinada. Is our lord Susano-O well?"  
  
"He's fine." Kaede stepped forward towards him. Her face was darkened with concern. "Are you sure you're all right? I felt something . . . an odd sort of feeling, just a minute ago. I don't know if it was - "  
  
"I'm sure that everything is going according to our plans, princess. You need not concern yourself." Murakumo turned towards her; the pain was easing now, and he could easily hide his discomfort under a mask of impassiveness.  
  
She nodded slowly, the moonlight casting a faint glow onto her face. One hand reached out and touched his shoulder. "I suppose you're right . . . but if something *is* wrong, tell me, okay?"   
  
"I - yes. Of course." Bewildered, he watched her tramp back to the shrine. His hand strayed to the place where she had touched him. "Of course . . . . "  
  
*~*  
  
"What the hell happened in there?"  
  
The TAC had gathered together in front of the small infirmary to try and make sense of what had happened. Momiji was fast asleep on a small cot in the corner; the only ill effect the 'attack' had had on her was exhaustion. Still, Matsudaira had clustered a few monitors around her as a precaution.  
  
The team's main focus, however, was on the central mass of IVs and monitors in the room. After the strange aurora had enveloped him, Kusanagi's health had actually *improved* slightly. The raging fever that had taken him was lowered greatly; his breathing was not quite as labored as before. Looming beside him, however, was the defibrillator, ready at a moment's notice in case his heart stopped again.  
  
Matsudaira sighed and leaned back into the couch, her face troubled. "I don't know," she finally admitted.  
  
The group stared at her, startled by her confession. "What d'ya mean, you don't know?" Koume asked. "You're the Aragami specialist around here, aren't you?"  
  
She shot the younger woman a dirty look before continuing. "When I used the defibrillator on Kusanagi that final time, his mitamas reacted somehow with the electrical charge. I don't know if that has to do with how the mitama works within the human body, since the only subject I've been able to study is Momiji, or if it was an instinctive call for help."  
  
Kunikida raised an eyebrow. "A call for help? Why Momiji? Why not some other Aragami?"  
  
The scientist shrugged and sipped at her tea. "According to Momiji, it was the Yamata-no-Orochi itself who gave Kusanagi his seven mitamas. Orochi was also the same Aragami that appeared in Izumo after Kaede disappeared. It stands to reason that it only had one mitama left after giving up seven - "  
  
"So in other words, Momiji's mitama came from the same source as Kusanagi's," Takeuchi exclaimed.  
  
"Probably so," she agreed. "It's the mitamas that give him his powers, including his incredible healing factor. If they are what is keeping him alive, then they may have been trying to call on the eighth and final mitama for more power."   
  
Yaegashi spoke up from the corner where Koume had relegated him. "And it worked, didn't it? He's doing a lot better now - "  
  
"Maybe he's doing better now," Kunikida said, "but we all saw how much it took out of Momiji to sacrifice that power to him. We can't afford to have her get sick to save him - and we don't even know if the effects will last. He could take a turn for the worse at any minute."  
  
There was a long pause. "Something else about this bothers me," Matsudaira said.  
  
Takeuchi looked over at her. "What is it, Matsu?"  
  
She looked up at the group, her face set in concern. "I still haven't found a cause for this illness Kusanagi has. My studies all come to one conclusion; this is some sort of auto-immune disorder. And if his mitamas can control how ill he becomes, what is there to say that it isn't the mitamas themselves that are causing it?  
  
"And if that's true, then with his and Momiji's mitamas sharing such a close bond, is there a chance that she herself may acquire the same disease that's killing him now?  
  
"If that happens, then - "  
  
The worried faces of the team were a mute answer.  
  
*~* *~* *~*  
  
"Get back here, you little thief!"  
  
A young boy, about eight or nine years old, leaped away from the yakitori chef as he chased him down an alley. His eyes, hidden under his shaggy hair, glittered with amusement as the man made another clumsy swipe at him. "What's wrong, old man?" he asked, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice. "Can't keep up?"  
  
The older man lunged, panting heavily, and nearly fell on his face. Again, the boy danced away smiling; he waved the stolen skewers of chicken just out of the chef's reach. At this point, a small crowd was beginning to form around the two. Some chuckled at the boy's insolence; two businessmen went forward to catch the old man before he fell. "Just wait until the police catches you!" he huffed, his face turning red from exertion. "You shame your parents and your family, boy!"  
  
The child paused for a brief second, then shrugged. Pulling down his lower eyelid in a gesture of contempt, he leaped into the air- and disappeared. "Thanks for the food, old man!" his voice echoed through the alleyway.  
  
The crowd dispersed as three policemen arrived late on the scene; one businessman, however, lurked behind after the cursing chef had been led away. He idly ran a hand over his beard as he studied the deserted alley. "Tell me," and he turned towards one of the cops, "who was that boy?"  
  
He shrugged. "We don't really know, sir. We've gotten complaints about a kid matching his description several times before, but there's no way to track a kid down through all the schools here in Tokyo and the surrounding areas." The policeman paused. "I'd just like to know what kind of a parent lets his kid dye his hair green."  
  
The businessman nodded and began to walk away. "I'd like to know the same thing," he said softly, pulling out his cellular phone. "And I think I do know . . . ."  
  
Kusanagi stopped amid a clump of trees outside of a private school and sat down heavily in the branches. "Just in time," he said to himself, reclining back. He eagerly began devouring the yakitori skewers as he scanned the area, finally fixing on one window. Inside, rows of children were fidgeting in their seats as their teacher scribbled on the chalkboard. his eyes picked out a familiar face in the front row; satisfying himself that everything was all right, he tossed an empty skewer to the ground and began on the other. "Don't know why I gotta watch the stupid Kushinada anyway," he grumbled through a mouthful of chicken.   
  
As he watched, the school bell rang to end classes for the day. Children began pouring from the building, happily laughing and chatting with friends. Kaede, the Kushinada, was right out among them. The boy leaned forward, watching her dance about. She was happy and carefree, and for just a moment he was with her, sharing in the joy.  
  
She looked up towards the tree with a huge smile, and his heart nearly stopped; Orochi had made it abundantly clear what would happen to him if Kaede was to ever find out about her protector, and Kusanagi was none too eager to relive the experience. Her smile faded a bit as she continued to look around. Finally, she just shrugged and ran to catch up with her friends.  
  
The spell of joy was broken. He slumped back against the tree and folded his arms over his T-shirt. "Don't know what *she's* all excited about," he muttered. This was the part of his duties that he hated most; watching his peers leading relatively normal lives brought up emotions he couldn't even name (Hatred? Loneliness? Longing? Fear? Or were all these emotions so tightly intertwined that they couldn't be distinguished?). The boy shoved the feelings back into a corner of his mind to fester and continued his endless watch of the young girl below.  
  
Suddenly, the branch he was sitting on shook violently. He looked down to see a young man around his own age angrily punching the tree base. The boy wore a heavy backpack over his shoulders, and had his tousled black hair held out of his face with a yellow bandana. There was something else, too; Kusanagi could sense it even from his elevated distance. It was a tangible anger . . . and loneliness. Like himself. He watched as the other boy finally backed up and shouted to the sky, "Where am I at *now*???"  
  
The young Aragami paused and glanced towards the Kushinada. The head of the TAC was down there now, picking her up, so she would be safe enough for the time being. His mind wrestled for a moment; Orochi's directives on interacting with humans were incredibly strict, and he knew what the punishment would be should his master find out, but . . . he wanted a friend. He had always just been an outside observer, never able to experience any of the joys of childhood; here, however, was his chance to change that.  
  
He easily leapt down to the ground. "Takada Elementary," he said softly.  
  
The other boy whirled around. "Huh?"  
  
Kusanagi shrank back a bit. "You said you wanted to know where you were, so . . . you're right behind Takada Elementary School. In Tokyo."  
  
To his amazement, he grinned in joy. "Really? I'm back in Tokyo? I'm not far from home!" He paused. "I'm Hibiki Ryouga. Who're you?"  
  
He stared at the ground nervously, suddenly thankful for the itchy gloves that Orochi made him wear to hide his mitamas. "I- I'm, um . . . Kusanagi Mamoru."   
  
Ryouga smiled at him. "Thanks a lot, Mamoru! Wanna be friends?"  
  
He stopped and looked at him in wide-eyed disbelief. "Wh- what?"  
  
"Do you want to be friends?" Ryouga was still there, standing in the dust under the maple tree with a lopsided smile on his face. There was no malice or bad humor, just an open invitation.  
  
"I- I'd like that," he finally said, smiling with real joy for the first time in his life.  
  
Neither boy noticed the dark figure looming in the bushes.  
  
Kusanagi quickly learned one thing about his new friend: he had absolutely *no* sense of direction whatsoever. They were supposedly headed for his family home in Juuban, which Ryouga was telling him about, but he could already see that getting there was going to take a while. He kept wandering every few minutes without realizing it. "You're going the wrong way again, Ryouga," he said gently, tugging on his knapsack.  
  
"Oh. Well, let's sit down for a minute; I'm getting hungry." Ryouga sat down just inside an alley and began rummaging through his backpack. Soon he yanked out a small bentou smelling deliciously of broiled fish and vegetables. "I bought this at the train station just before I ran into you, so it's still good. You want some?"  
  
"No, thanks," the young Aragami lied; his stomach began grumbling in protest. He flushed in embarrassment. "Sorry."  
  
Ryouga shrugged. "I got enough here for both of us. Here," and he began dishing out a small portion on the bentou lid, "the fish is really good with the shiitake mushrooms. Go ahead, Mamoru, it's okay."  
  
He hesitated, the took it gratefully and began shoveling the food in with his hands, muttering a brief 'thanks' with his mouth full. "Anyway," Ryouga continued, "like I said before, my mom and dad are martial artists, but my dad runs a museum most of the time. He says it's a lot of fun, but I think it's boring. All he does is hang around really old pots and stuff all day. Maybe if they had some swords or something, it would be more fun. So what does your dad do?"  
  
Kusanagi choked on a bite of fish. "My . . . my father?" he rasped when he could again breathe.  
  
"Yeah. You know, your dad, the guy you live with. What does he do for a living?"  
  
He sat down his empty platter, pondering the question. "Well, I- I guess that Orochi is my dad now," he said to himself, shuddering slightly.  
  
"Orochi? That's a funny name. Your dad really lets you call him that? And what do you mean, 'now'?" Ryouga leaned forward, openly curious.  
  
"Yeah, well . . . I think my parents died when I was a baby," he said softly. "Orochi's never told me what happened, so I don't know for sure."  
  
"Oh." The other boy was quiet. "I'm sorry, Mamoru."  
  
He shrugged. "It's okay. I haven't seen Orochi in over two weeks, so I don't really know what he's doing now; he left to watch the new TAC base at Kyoto- uh oh." He froze in fear and glanced about him worriedly. "I wasn't supposed to say anythin' about that," he said, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Don't tell anyone, okay, Ryouga? Orochi'll get real mad at me if he finds out I told you 'bout it."  
  
"Okay, I promise," he swore, a concerned look on his face. "Will you be okay?"  
  
Kusanagi stood up and said with exaggerated bravado, "Sure I will! Orochi's miles away; he won't find out about it. He couldn't find his- Ryouga?" The boy paused and looked around. "Ryouga?"  
  
His friend had disappeared. He glanced down the alleyway anxiously and caught a flash of yellow turning the corner. "Ryouga! You're going the wrong way! Wait for me!"  
  
It didn't take long for Kusanagi to find his friend; three older boys, probably in their early teens, had backed him into a corner and were dangling his backpack in front of him. "Come on and jump for it, kid," one of them teased, laughing as Ryouga lunged towards him.  
  
The boy stumbled and fell to his knees, tearing his pants and skinning the flesh. He had to bite his lip to keep from crying. "Aww," mocked another, "did the widdle bitty baby fall down? Does him want his mommy to kiss his boo-boo and make it all betters?"  
  
"Not 'till she kisses mine first!" the third crowed, sending his friends into gales of laughter. He could see Ryouga balling up his fists, shaking with shame and anger.  
  
That was enough for Kusanagi. "Hey, stupid! Turn around!"  
  
The group, still laughing, glanced back at him. "I said turn around, you- you stupid humans!"  
  
One of the teens turned towards him. "Well, looky who's here!" He crossed his hands over his heart and sighed. "Oh, I'm sooo scared! I just can't stand up to- what the *hell*??"  
  
The mitamas on Kusanagi's hands began glowing through the gloves. He yanked them off, not caring who saw the blazing souls, and threw them to the ground. "Back off and leave my friend alone," he growled.  
  
A bokken suddenly appeared in the main bully's hands. He grinned as his group began picking up trash and rocks for ammo; one of then abruptly sat on Ryouga, trying to keep him down. "Make me, you dumb little shit," he snapped back. "Go for it!"  
  
Cans, broken glass, and rocks began whizzing past him as they began their barrage; he rapidly began dodging the projectiles. His speed was incredible, but not enough. A jagged bit of glass hit him in the cheek, tearing a long gash into the flesh. Green blood began to ooze from the wound and run down his face. "Oh my god," the leader gasped, pointing. "The little freak ain't even human! He's some kind of monster! What are you waiting for; get the brat!"  
  
That was the breaking point. Kusanagi had spent all of his life being insulted and attacked, and this was the first time he was actually able to lash out instead of having to put up with the abuse. Furious, he screamed and launched himself at the group. Blades burst from the flesh of his forearms; his hands were enveloped in an eerie blue glow. One blade pierced through the shoulder of the lead bully, shattering the bone and making him shriek in agony; the other hand launched several ki blasts that bowled the teens over. He wrenched his arm blade free and leapt at another of them, still incoherently screaming his rage. He didn't even notice his friend Ryouga crying for him to stop; his focus was on hurting them, making them screech in agony as he himself had done so many times before-  
  
-and as suddenly as it had begun, the fight stopped. The young boy who had so suddenly went beserk had just disappeared before their eyes. Groans began to echo through the alley as the gang members began to realize their wounds. Sirens had begun to wail in the background; the sound of footsteps grew louder, and the voices of adults could be faintly heard. Ryouga slowly let down his guard and leaned forward, his bloody knees forgotten. "Mamoru? Mamoru? Where are you?"  
  
Orochi flung Kusanagi into the far wall of the cavern angrily, its lone red eye glaring bright through the darkness. *I told you to keep yourself hidden!*  
  
The boy fell on his hands and knees to the floor and lay there, trembling. Orochi had come back from his mission much sooner than was thought, and now he had been caught openly disobeying orders. "I- I-" he whimpered, bowing until his head hit the ground. "I'm sorry, master-"  
  
*You're sorry,* it mocked. *You failed to follow the Kushinada, you let yourself be seen by humans _despite_my_orders_, and now the TAC is investigating because of your stupidity! And you say you're _sorry_?*  
  
Kusanagi began shaking with fear, not daring to look up at the monster before him. He reflexively curled up into a tight ball, as if making himself smaller and more defenseless would somehow spare him from his master's wrath. "I didn't mean to-"  
  
*You _idiot_!!!* A long tentacle grasped him by his shaggy hair and lifted the six-year-old from the floor. *I warned you what would happen if you disobeyed me, boy,* it growled, shaking him like a dog does a rat. *I told you what I would do-*  
  
He grabbed the appendage holding him aloft, trying to keep from crying out in pain. *Stop your sniveling and let go of me!*  
  
"I'm sorry!" The child shook his head furiously, clutching it even tighter. "Please, I'm sorry, pleasedon'thurtmeI'msorryI'm-"  
  
Another tentacle backhanded him, busting back open the partially healed wound on his cheek. *Shut up with your whining,* it snapped. *Crying is for the weak, the inferior. I said _stop_it_!*  
  
Still reeling from the blow, Kusanagi bit back his sobs and nodded hesitantly. His eyes still begged the Aragami, hoping against hope that obedience would lessen the punishment. His master drew him closer until he was barely a foot away from the monster's lone eye. The furor glowing in that eye quelled all hope for leniency.   
  
*I told you to stop sniveling, little toy.* Orochi lowered him to the floor. *Against the wall,* it ordered, shoving him across the chamber.  
  
The child's eyes grew wide with horror as he realized what was coming next. "Please, master, I'm sorry-"  
  
*Not _half_ as sorry as you're going to be when I'm through with you,* it promised. *Now _face_the_wall_!!!*  
  
Before Kusanagi could even begin to comply, thin tentacles wrapped themselves around his wrists and ankles, pinning him to the rock face. All hope left him; his small hands instinctively grasped hold of the jutting stone and tensed, waiting -  
  
The first blow slammed him into the rocks; he began sobbing, verdant blood beginning to trickle from the scrapes on his face. *I said stop whining!* Orochi roared, lashing out again. The whip cracked, tearing into his shoulders, ripping through the thin cloth of his shirt into the flesh. *Stop-*  
  
-crack!-   
  
*-whining,-*  
  
-crack!-  
  
*-worthless-*  
  
-crack!-  
  
*-bastard! Do you understand me?*  
  
Kusanagi's chest hitched once, twice, three times. His teeth were gritted together tight against the pain; the rocks he had been gripping were now shattered into dust. "Yes . . . master," he finally grunted, struggling to keep from crying out.  
  
Orochi paused, the whip-like tentacle dangling over him. *And why should I even let you live?* It sneered at him in disgust. *You . . . look at you, puling on the floor like a _human_! You're worthless, _stupid_, a waste of my time!*  
  
It was several seconds before he could find the strength to speak. "- I- I'm sorry I'm dumb . . . . I know I'm not- not worth-" He choked back a sob. "-not worth anythin'-"  
  
The whip came down again, slashing his legs. He hardly noticed; his whole body seemed to be seared in agony. *Then beseech me,* and its voice mocked him with sadistic humor, *beg me . . . _beg_ for my forgiveness like the bastard you are.*  
  
The child's cheeks burned with shame. "I . . . please . . . . " He whimpered softly as he was struck again.  
  
*What do you want to tell me, boy?*  
  
"Please . . . please, master . . . . " Hot tears rolled down his cheeks, stinging the open wounds. Another blow came down, and his knees buckled under him. The boy fell noiselessly to the ground, into the small pool of verdant blood that was collecting underneath him. " . . . please forgive me . . . . "  
  
The Aragami brought the whip down one final time, completely ripping the shirt from the child's body in a spray of blood. His little frame shook with unvoiced sobs; he could no longer keep up a facade of strength. For all his hope, he was still just a child, still too young to even understand anything beyond what he was told. "I'm sorry," he whispered into the dirt. "I'm so sorry . . . . "  
  
Orochi's voice was rich with contempt. "You got off easy this time, boy." There was a rustling noise as it slithered out of the cavern. "Next time . . . I won't be so lenient."  
  
A full twenty minutes passed before the boy dared to even move. Slowly, whimpering with each movement, he dragged himself into a corner of the cavern. There were no more tears; he had no more tears left to shed. He wrapped his arms around himself as he sat on the hard ground. "I'm sorry . . . . "  
  
And in the forgotten shadows, the child known as Kusanagi Mamoru curled up into a ball and cried himself to sleep.  
  
*~*  
  
Momiji woke up several hours later to the sounds of someone moaning. She blinked and yawned, trying to clear the cobwebs from her mind before rising. "Mrs. Matsudaira?" she asked softly. "Is anyone there?"  
  
She heard the moaning again; the young woman looked across the small room and shot to her feet. "Kusanagi? Are you awake?" She walked over on unsteady legs and sat next to him on a stool. He was tossing and turning on the bed; the sheets had been shoved aside by his insistent thrashing. The teen leaned against the railing, concern etched on her face. "You'll be all right, Kusanagi," she whispered as she began to adjust the sheets back around him.   
  
He suddenly stopped moving at her touch. His face was contorted in pain and sorrow; he began murmuring something over and over like a mantra. The young man's hands weakly gripped the bed railing as if bracing against it. Momiji leaned forward, straining desperately to hear what he was saying.   
  
" . . . I'm sorry . . . I'm so sorry . . . . "  
  
A single tear, tiny and sparkling, slipped from one eye and slid along the contour of his cheek before dripping down onto Momiji's hand. Another soon followed, and another, until there was a steady flow of shimmering tears flowing down his chiseled face. "Oh, Kusanagi," she murmured quietly, touching the droplet to her lips. It twisted her heart to see him suffering; she could only guess as to what was tormenting him. Slowly, she leaned down and, hesitating, brushed her lips against his forehead. "I'm here for you, Kusanagi. I promise, I'll never leave you . . . ."  
  
The constant beeping of the monitors was her only answer.  



	4. Chapter 4- Stigmata II/ Where Only Darkn...

*~* Hidden Fires *~*  
  
Chapter 4: Stigmata II / Where Only Darkness Dares to Tread  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"I will be your father figure  
Put your tiny hand in mine  
I will be your teacher, preacher,  
Anything you have in mind . . . ."  
-George Michael, "Father Figure"  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Murakumo casually dropped his latest 'recruit' to  
the floor of the abandoned warehouse. Five slovenly  
drunks off the streets, they all possessed the low  
brain capacity and heightened strength that he needed.  
He stood over them as they lay unconscious; reaching  
into a pocket of his jacket, he withdrew five red  
mitamas. His blue mitamas began glowing as he focused  
his energy on the souls in his hand. Just as the light  
threatened to blind him, he lashed out and fused the  
mitamas into each man's throat. "Go forth," he  
commanded as his newly-made slaves began to pick  
themselves up off the floor. "Go out and bring to me  
the other Kushinada!"  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Matsudaira slowly drew on the pair of rubber gloves,  
snapping them into place around her wrist. Her  
weariness was only evidenced by the dark circles under  
her eyes; how she managed to keep up such a  
professional air was a mystery even to herself. Alone  
now in the morgue, however, she could relax the facade  
slightly.  
  
As she slid the corpse out of the drawer, she  
mentally reviewed the case reports Sugishita had  
rushed to her shortly after midnight. The Shinjuku  
district of Tokyo had been plagued by over thirteen  
murders within the span of a week; all the victims  
were young women, and all had been savagely raped and  
beaten before being killed. The semen was oddly more  
consistent with plant pollen than actual human  
products, which had been the first clue as to possible  
Aragami involvement. The clincher, though, had come  
late that evening, when five recently beheaded corpses  
were found inside an abandoned warehouse. Intuition  
had told her to come to the morgue and investigate  
further.  
  
The timing of the events was what had concerned  
Matsudaira and Kunikida the most. The first of the  
murders had occured just two days before Kusanagi was  
overcome by a mysterious illness; the rate of the  
murders had increased dramatically since then. With  
Kusanagi barely hanging on to life, the TAC was put at  
a decided disadvantage. The entire fate of humankind  
depended on Momiji's safety. With her guardian out of  
commission- Matsudaira sighed and pushed those  
thoughts out of her head.   
  
She slowly unzipped the body bag, still trying to  
focus her mind on the task at hand. She knew what had  
happened in the reports, but that didn't quite prepare  
her for the actual sight. The man's throat had been  
slit from ear to ear; only the spinal cord connected  
the head to the body. The victim's head wobbled  
sligthly, its eyes staring milkily up at the ceiling.  
In the center of its forehead was a gaping wound in  
the rough shape of a comma. The skull gleamed through  
the wound, unnatural holes mottling the hard white  
bone. Matsudaira stopped her inspection as she sighted  
a ragged bit of red flesh poking up through the skull.  
"That's odd," she murmured to herself, leaning in for  
a closer look. "There shouldn't be any arterial  
intrusions here . . . ." Pulling out a tiny scalpel,  
she neatly sectioned off a bit of the flesh and  
balanced it on the edge of the blade. The scientist  
began to put it away in a specimen tube, ignoring her  
surroundings, when something cold and horribly spongy  
locked around her wrist.  
  
The filmy, red-tinged eyes of the corpse stared  
straight at her; the blue-tinged lips curled into a  
hideous grin as it yanked her next to it. She could  
feel the hand twisting her wrist, could see the evil  
leer on the corpse's face, but could not make a sound.  
Her vocal chords were paralyzed with fear; she dropped  
the scalpel and specimen tube to the floor, where the  
glass shattered noiselessly. ". . . fuck the Kushinada  
. . . fuck you . . . ," it rasped as small tendrils of  
red flesh began to regrow around the slit edges of its  
throat. "Take- take you-"  
  
And it was then, as she realized exactly what this  
reaninmated Aragami was planning, that Matsudaira  
finally regained her voice. She pulled away as hard as  
she could and let out an ear-piercing shriek that  
seemed to make the very walls of the room shake. She  
screamed loud enough to awaken the dead around her.  
The corpse began twisting her wrist harder, grimly  
trying to crush the small bones-  
  
The deafening report of a gunshot suddenly blasted  
the room. The Aragami-infested corpse fell back to the  
cart with a meaty thud; the 'life' which had  
reanimated it faded from eyes. Sugishita quickly  
lowered the smoking barrel of his pistol and rushed to  
the woman's side, followed by several security guards.  
"Are you okay? What happened? I was coming to bring  
you the rest of the reports and-"  
  
Matsudaira, still trembling, slowly lowered herself  
into a chair. "Warn Kunikida," she rasped, cutting him  
off. "Must warn him now- Momiji's in danger. She's in-  
danger-"  
  
And for the first time in her professional life,  
Matsudaira fainted.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Takeuchi slowly eased out of the infirmary, being  
careful not to make a sound. Momiji had finally fallen  
asleep (or cried herself to sleep; she wasn't sure  
which) on the cot beside Kusanagi's bed. She had made  
a final check of the monitors before going back into  
the main office for a quick nap.   
  
The woman sighed to herself as she settled down on  
the couch. Kusanagi's condition was slowly worsening  
again; it didn't take a scientist to tell the signs.  
She knew that Momiji would not take that news well  
when she woke up. The Kushinada still firmly believed  
that he would pull through the illness, but the rest  
of the team did not share her optimism. Takeuchi  
sighed again and closed her eyes. The office was quiet  
for once; Koume and Yaegashi had been sent home, since  
there was nothing for them to do. Matsudaira had left  
around midnight to investigate something at the  
morgue.   
  
As for Kunikida . . . well, she, Matsudaira, and  
Sugishita had finally forced him to go home as well.  
He hadn't slept or rested in over three days, and the  
strain was beginning to take a real toll on him. They  
needed the boss in top condition to function for the  
team. She smiled slightly as she began to fall asleep.  
His stubborn strength and determination, just two more  
aspects of the man that she loved so . . . .  
  
Three pairs of glowing red eyes watched Takeuchi as  
she fell asleep.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
*~* The infiltration of the government by the  
Aragami was proceeding smoothly; and as long as Orochi was  
pleased, Kusanagi was spared his master's wrath. He  
spent most of his time watching the Kushinada as  
always, but now Orochi had entrusted him as a  
messenger between itself and one of its main  
infiltrators. The added duties left him little time  
for anything besides a quick nap once a week, but he  
didn't mind; he worked harder than ever to prove  
himself worthy of his assignment.  
  
The main contact Kusanagi met with was an Aragami  
who had assumed the name of Akuyou Fushi. Whether he  
was human or a clone wasn't known, but he fit in  
perfectly with human norms and behaviors. Orochi had  
stationed him within the Ministry of Defense as a  
top-level assistant to the Director; this position  
frequently brought him into contact with most  
information pertaining to the activities of the TAC.  
Kusanagi couldn't understand anything about the odd  
sheets full of symbols that he shuttled between Akuyou  
and his master, except that Orochi had deemed the  
information of top priority.  
  
The boy leapt from windowsill to windowsill of  
the Diet building, taking care to stay in the shadows.  
This was the one duty he actually enjoyed doing. He  
had been incredibly shy during his first meeting with  
Akuyou, but the older man's warm personality and  
quirky sense of humor had somehow won him over. Akuyou  
was everything Orochi was not; he never shouted when  
he was angry, and he always treated Kusanagi as  
something of an equal. And he had never hit him.  
Never.  
  
Those next few times they had met, Akuyou had  
something for him in his office; more often than not,  
it was some type of sweet. Once, however, after Orochi  
had beaten him for forgetting to address him properly  
(or as properly as the demon had wanted at the time),  
the man had given him a small stuffed animal. He had  
no idea what to *do* with it, but the gesture warmed  
him inside nonetheless. And no matter how busy he was,  
Akuyou was always willing to listen to him.  
Occasionally, he would let him sit in his lap and tell  
him stories of the oddities of human nature while the  
boy played with the items on his desk.  
  
Kusanagi, in his most private fantasies, often  
imagined this strange man as being his real father.  
Why not? He was the only person in the world who had  
showed him any level of kindness. It didn't matter  
that he was occasionally uncomfortable with Akuyou's  
persistent patting on the back, or the way he held him  
too tight on his lap; he felt relaxed and carefree in  
the other's presence. Just knowing that *someone*  
cared about how he felt was more than enough.  
  
The young boy finally landed painfully on a  
ledge. Orochi hadn't been too happy with the last few  
reports, and had taken his frustrations out on him.  
The jeans he wore rubbed agonizingly against the raw  
welts on the back of his legs; and the healing scrapes  
on his back still ached when he overextended himself.  
He glanced around to make sure that no one was  
watching, then rapped three times on Akuyou's window.  
  
The older man ambled over to the window and  
opened it, a wide smile on his face. "You've come for  
another report, eh?" he asked as Kusanagi climbed  
inside.  
  
"Yeah," he said with a nod. "He said that you'd  
have a- a crystal or something for him."  
  
"Ah, the ceramic crystals. I'll get them in a  
moment; it won't hurt Orochi to wait a bit, will it?"  
He stepped over to his desk; picking up the cobalt  
paperweight, he began idly tossing it his hands. "Why  
don't you go ahead and sit down for a bit, take a  
break. You can keep me company for a while."  
  
The boy glanced down at the floor. "I can't," he  
said softly.  
  
Akuyou raised an eyebrow, a hurt expression on  
his face. "I thought you'd *want* to spent some time  
with your old friend, but-"  
  
"No, it's not that!" he exclaimed, worried. "It  
just hurts- when I sit down or-"  
  
The older man motioned him closer and pulled the  
boy's T-shirt up. "Orochi certainly did a number on  
you, eh?" He ran a hand over the healing scrapes.  
"These seem to be healing all right. Where else did  
you get hit? No, let me guess," and he ran a hand  
slowly down the back of one leg, making him stiffen in  
pain. "Just as I thought. Why don't you shuck off your  
jeans there, and I'll clean out the wounds. You don't  
want them to get infected, do you?"  
  
Kusanagi glanced at his jeans, then, with a  
shrug, slid them off. Behind him, Akuyou whistled.  
"You've got some nasty cuts there, Mamoru," he said,  
opening the kit and pulling out an iodine bottle. "Now  
hold still; this is going to sting like hell."  
  
He stood rigidly as the older man began to slowly  
wash out each cut and scrape, the hiss of breathing  
through his clenched teeth being the only sign of pain  
he would show. It seemed to take an eternity; he  
seemed to take longer to finish the higher up the  
child's legs he went. "There," and the adult's voice  
was a bit husky, "that takes care of that. Feeling  
better?"  
  
"Not really-" He cringed. "I'm sorry, Akuyou, I  
mean-"  
  
The older man laughed. "No, I know how much that  
stuff burns. It'll fade in a few minutes." He stared  
at the boy thoughtfully for a few seconds, then put a  
fatherly hand on his shoulder. "You know, Mamoru, I'm  
really glad you came today. I have something I want to  
show you."  
  
"Really? What?" The child's eyes were alight with  
anticipation.  
  
He seemed to take his time in answering. "It's a  
game, a *special* game for just the two of us, and no  
one else." He smiled down at him, a predatory glint in  
his eye. "You do want to do this with me, don't you?"  
  
Kusanagi nodded, a little confused by his  
friend's sudden mood swing. "You don't know how much  
that means to me," Akuyou said, gently pushing him up  
to his overstuffed chair. "Just stand there," he  
warned. "Just be very still and then we'll begin."  
  
There was the rustle of fabric behind him, then  
the older man's large hands cupped the child around  
the waist. He began squirming nervously. "Akuyou, I- I  
don't-"  
  
"Shhh . . . it's going to be all right," he  
promised, slipping his hands down further. "Just be  
still-"  
  
It was if someone had thrust a sword into his  
lower stomach. Kusanagi tried to scream, but one large  
hand clamped over his mouth. "It'll be over soon," the  
adult crooned, ignoring the boy's muffled cries as he  
began rocking back and forth. "It'll be all right . .  
. ."  
  
  
Orochi finally found his young protege huddled in  
the corner of the alley beside the Ministry of  
Defense. *Kusanagi?* it hissed. *Where are the ceramic  
crystals?*  
  
There was no answer. The Aragami reached out with  
one tentacle and slapped him; he did not even flinch.  
It slithered in further until it was almost eye to eye  
with the boy, surveying every detail of the corner he  
sat in. Kusanagi was curled up in nothing but the  
ragged remains of a T-shirt; a small puddle of blood  
and fluids had collected under him. As it watched, he  
whimpered slightly and tried to back up further into  
the corner.  
  
It struck him again, trying to get a response.  
Slowly, he lifted his bleak, tear-streaked face up  
towards his master; utter shame clouded his eyes.  
Orochi stared at him long and hard, then finally  
spoke. *If you are so weak that you cannot defend  
yourself against a mere *human*,* and its voice  
dripped with contempt, *then you have no one to blame  
for your misfortune but yourself.* It then turned away  
in disgust, slowly melting back into the shadows.  
  
Kusanagi stared out at the bleak alley; as soon  
as he knew Orochi had left, he wrapped his arms around  
his knees and began to tremble uncontrollably. "My  
fault," he whispered in a tremulous voice, a single  
tear running down his cheek. "It's all my fault . . .  
."  
  
*~* *~* *~*  
  
The tinkling of broken glass instantly jerked  
Takeuchi out of her sleep. She reflexively reached out  
for her pistol-  
  
And a heavy boot stomped on her hand. "I don't think  
so," a siblant voice hissed. "Not now . . . or ever."  
  
Five shadowed men stood around her in a semicircle,  
guns and knives drawn. Their faces seemed to beam out  
of the darkness; in the center of each man's forehead  
glowed a throbbing red mitama.  
  



	5. In the Ashes of Humanity . . .

  
*~* Hidden Fires *~*  
  
Chapter 5: In the Ashes of Humanity . . .   
  
"As memory may be a paradise from which we cannot be  
driven, it may also be a hell from which we cannot  
escape."   
-John Lancaster Spalding  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Kunikida pushed aside the cup of coffee one of  
the hospital guards had proffered, instead gesturing  
towards the tightly locked morgue doors. "So you saw  
the corpse attacking Matsudaira?" he asked again.  
  
He had been awakened from a rather sound sleep, a  
sleep helped along by Matsudaira's creative addition  
of a medication in his coffee. Still trying to rouse  
himself from that chemical-induced sleepiness, he  
looked pointedly at Sugishita, waiting for his  
response. "I had just come down to bring her some new  
data on the corpses when-" He shrugged and spread his  
hands. "The bastard was dead- at least, we thought so.  
His head had practically been chopped off; I don't  
know how in the hell it could have-"  
  
"It's rather simple, Boss." The two men turned to  
see a very weary Matsudaira standing in the door of  
the hallway. Kunikida half-raised from his seat to  
help her; she waved him off and slowly sank into a  
chair near him. "Its mitama resurrected it."  
  
"*Mitama*?!" the two men exclaimed at the same  
time. Sugishita thumped his paper cup down onto the  
table, splashing cold coffee everywhere. "The damn  
things are everywhere! Everywhere you look nowadays,  
you've got a damn blue seed staring you in the face!"  
  
Kunikida rolled his eyes at his colleague's  
histrionics. "There was no evidence of a mitama  
reported in the initial autopsy," he said uneasily.  
"Where did you find it?"  
  
"I didn't find it- it found me." She scowled at  
the floor. "Besides, it's not a blue mitama it  
possessed; it was red."  
  
"Red? Like the ones in the hellhounds that  
attacked a few months ago?"  
  
She nodded. "The mitama itself wasn't there; it  
had been removed- almost surgically. I found the  
extensions of where the mitama had rooted itself in  
the man's skull. Apparently whoever removed the mitama  
overlooked removing the roots, at least in that  
particular corpse. The other four show signs of having  
had a mitama, but theirs were more completely  
removed."  
  
"So the roots of the mitama started to reanimate  
the corpse then? When you started to remove them, I  
mean."  
  
She nodded slowly, avoiding looking at the men  
around her. "So what was it trying to do, anyway?"  
Sugishita asked, folding his arms over his chest. "If  
it had wanted to kill you, it could have done it a lot  
more quickly that what it was doing in the morgue."  
  
Matsudaira took a deep breath and looked up at  
Kunikida with frightened, almost tearful eyes. "It . .  
. They were the ones who committed the rapes in  
Shinjuku," she said quietly.  
  
Kunikida closed his eyes and put a firm, gentle  
hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Matsu."  
  
Sugishita was a little slower at getting the  
point. "How do you know that they did it, unless . . .  
it . . . oh. Holy-" He shook his head and leaned back  
against the wall. "This is like some sort of living  
nightmare," he grumbled under his breath.  
  
"You're just now noticing that?" Matsudaira shook  
her head slowly. "I'm sorry, Sugishita. That was  
uncalled for. I just- I'm just a little shaken right  
now, that's all."  
  
The older man leaned back in his chair and  
steepled his fingers in front of him. "So have you  
heard any news on Kusanagi?" he asked, trying to  
change the subject.  
  
She let out a sigh, rubbing her temples with one  
hand. "I heard from Takeuchi just a few minutes before  
I began the autopsy. His fever's risen almost two  
degrees in the past few hours." Suddenly she looked  
very, very old and weary, as if under a burden too  
much to bear. "I don't know what else to do for him.  
I've tried everything I could think of; I've asked  
colleagues at Tokyo University to help analyze the  
data, but they've come up with the same conclusions I  
have. Barring the chance of a miracle . . . he  
probably won't live out the week."  
  
Kunikida sighed heavily. "How the hell am I going  
to break this to Momiji? She's been so determined that  
he would pull through, but-"  
  
A sudden blast shook the entire building. Tiles  
began to fall from the ceiling; Matsudaira tumbled  
from her chair onto the floor. The entire room began  
rumbling and rocking almost rhythmically, tossing  
pictures and mirrors on the walls to shatter on the  
ground. "It's an earthquake!" Sugishita shouted as he  
ducked into the doorframe.  
  
Kunikida's cell phone began beeping urgently.  
"*Boss!*" Koume's urgent voice crackled over the  
phone. "That damn snake Aragami's back! It just  
reappeared near Yokohama!"  
  
Yaegashi's quavering voice chimed in. "Apparently  
the Aragami is emitting some sort of subsonic waves  
that are causing this earthquake! The Self-Defense  
Force is out now, but the van that was carrying the  
vector weapons just-"  
  
"Gimme the damn phone, Yaegashi, you're taking  
too long. Matsu's miracle weapon just got blown up;  
we're sitting ducks out here! And it may be starting  
to head out towards Tokyo! We've got to-"   
  
The phone suddenly went dead in his hands. He  
slapped at the casing angrily, ignoring the fact that  
the earthquake has suddenly stopped. "Koume! Yaegashi!  
Answer me! Koume!" Kunikida rammed the gadget back in  
his pocket and helped Matsudaira to her feet. "Damn.  
Sugishita, go try to contact the Takeuchi at the TAC  
main office and tell her to get the newest vector  
weapons ready! We'll drive by and pick them up on our  
way to Yokohama!"  
  
Sugishita looked up at him and motioned with his  
cell phone. "I'm not getting an answer on either the  
main phones or on Ryouko's cell phone! Nobody's  
answering!"  
  
"Boss . . .?" Matsudaira's voice wavered in the  
darkness. "We've got another problem here." She tugged  
at the main door leading out of the morgue; rubble and  
sparking wires tumbled out of the crack to spill into  
the room. Beyond the door, metal beams and various  
bits of rubble completely blocked the group's only  
exit. "We're stuck."  
  
*~*  
  
Lord Susa-no-O was crying, and she didn't know  
what to do.  
  
Kaede paced the floor of the cavern, the toddler  
god cradled in her arms. He was bawling angrily, his  
face red from exertion. The giant mitama on his  
forehead had been pulsing with light ever since she  
had found Murakumo out in the woods with the same  
symptoms the day before. Tears continuously leaked  
from his bloodshot eyes; his small hands were balled  
up into angry fists. The fact that he also had a good  
grip on her hair didn't escape her notice either.  
  
"Lord Susa-no-O, what's wrong?" she asked desperately,  
rocking him in her arms. She had tried everything she  
could possibly think of, from offering him food to  
toys to trying to get him to sleep, but nothing seemed  
to work. "Are you in pain? What is it? I don't know  
what to do!" She began pacing again, wincing as the  
young god began kicking and yanking at her hair.  
"Murakumo," she muttered under her breath, "where are  
you when I need you?"  
  
The infant god answered her with another angry  
cry.  
  
*~*  
  
Murakumo watched bemusedly as his creation  
smashed another tank flat with its tail. The cobra he  
has transfigured was performing better than his  
wildest expectations. Half the TAC team was trapped in  
the hospital from the earthquake he had engineered;  
the other half was here trying to fight. And with his  
minions out collecting the other Kushinada, he had  
nothing to bar his way from complete success.  
  
"Soon," he smirked to himself as the snake  
incinerated a truck full of soldiers, "soon you'll be  
dead, Kusanagi, and with your death comes my triumph."  
He ignored both the faint flickering of light from his  
mitamas and the tiny pang of regret at the thought of  
his opponent's demise. "Farewell, imperfect soul."  
  
With a small laugh of triumph, he flew away from  
the scene to await his minions' return.  
  
*~*  
  
  
November in the rain.  
  
He sat within the boughs of a giant oak tree,  
letting the natural canopy shield him from the steady  
downpour. His eyes, the only part of him visible in  
the darkness, were fixed upon a window of the  
sprawling house beneath him. Inside, the silhouette of  
a young girl just entering her teens sat at a desk and  
flipped through the pages of a well-worn book. As he  
watched, she dropped the book and began tapping her  
pencil against the desk.  
  
Satisfied that Kaede was doing fine, Kusanagi  
settled back into the fork of the tree and wrapped his  
arms around his knees. The long-sleeved shirt and  
slacks he had taken to wearing helped bar the cold,  
but it wasn't quite enough in this type of weather. He  
sighed and gingerly touched the ring of fading bruises  
that encircled his throat. In the four years that he  
had been in contact with him, Akuyou had been using  
him to fulfill some sick, perverse need;  
lately, now that he was going through the stages of  
puberty, Akuyou had been adding in more  
sadomasochistic practices to their "games." Just that  
morning, when Orochi had sent him to pick up some data  
on the Kushinada Project, the man he both loved and  
hated with a passion had accosted him-  
  
"There you are, Mamo-kun," the older man breathed  
as the young man climbed through the office window.  
"Orochi told me you would be coming by to collect the  
latest files on the Kushinada."  
  
Kusanagi grunted in reply. "Is something wrong,  
Mamoru?" Akuyou asked, stepping closer towards him.  
"You're usually quiet, but not *this* quiet. Come on;  
tell your old friend what's going on."  
  
He shrugged and leaned against the wall, avoiding  
the older man's eyes. "It's nothing," he finally said.  
  
"You can't lie to *me*, Mamoru; I know you too  
well. Does this have to do with the latest news from  
the Self-Defense Force? I know the SDF has put out a  
'shoot to kill' warning for a certain young man who  
runs the streets at night." He put a fatherly hand on  
his shoulder. "How many did you have to kill this  
time? Three? Four?"  
  
The teen sighed and nodded. "Something like  
that."  
  
Akuyou motioned him to sit in a nearby chair.  
"Don't torture yourself over it, Mamoru. They're just  
foolish humans; it's not like they mean anything." He  
leaned against the desk next to him, studying him with  
hungry eyes. "It's not your fault they had to die.  
They shouldn't have attacked you."  
  
"Maybe." He shifted uncomfortably as the older  
man patted his thigh. "I just wonder sometimes. What  
if we're wrong, Akuyou? What if that jerk Orochi is  
wrong about humans? What will happen to us if we're  
wrong?"  
  
Akuyou leaned closer and brushed the hair back  
from his face. "Such serious thoughts for a boy so  
young! We're in the right, Mamoru; you can see that  
humanity's destroying everything. It's not just our  
homeland here in Japan. The whole world's going to  
pot, and it's all the fault of humanity. Don't worry  
so much about things," and he tilted the boy's head up  
to look at him, "and learn to enjoy life. Soon we'll  
be in control and all the troubles of this world will  
be gone." He considered the young man in front of him,  
then brushed his lips against his. "Enjoy life now,  
Mamo-kun. You never know when it will end."  
  
He pulled away and stood up, grimacing. "I- I  
need to get those files to that bastard Orochi soon.  
If you'll just give them to me, I'll-"  
  
He grabbed his wrist and pulled him back around  
to look at him. "You don't have to go just yet,"  
Akuyou whispered in his ear, his hands slipping into  
the waistband of his slacks. "Stay just a little  
longer, Mamo-kun. Just a little longer . . . . I have  
something special for you."  
  
Kusanagi jerked away, his eyes wild with a  
growing fear as Akuyou began to unbuckle the belt of  
his trousers. "I- I have to go now, I-"  
  
"You can stay," the older man said, gently but  
firmly pushing him to his knees. "You can stay for me,  
now, can't you?"  
  
Trapped by his love for the man he considered a  
father figure, he could do nothing but shake his head  
miserably. Kusanagi had learned early on to shield his  
mind, to drift away when Akuyou would use him. His  
mind would wander far away, to a better place, where  
he could watch Kaede dance and enjoy her life without  
care. He could deal with being fondled, could deal  
with being forced to masturbate the older man. He had  
even learned to shield himself from the agony of being  
raped. During those times, his mind would desperately  
cling to the quiet meadows and shimmering oceans,  
where the Kushinada would laugh and dance under his  
watchful eyes. . . . But this was the one thing he  
had never built up a resistance to. "Akuyou, please," he begged  
in a trembling voice, "please don't make me do this."   
  
His perversely gentle hands guided his head  
downwards. "For me, Mamo-kun. You can do it. Come on  
now; it will be all right. Just-"  
  
And he complied with the inevitable. His eyes  
stung with tears; he shut his eyes and grimly tried to  
ignore the gagging sensation, to forget what he was  
being forced to do, but it was of no use. He was  
hideously aware of every movement, of Akuyou stroking  
his hair and murmuring to him. There was no defense  
from it; all he could do was sit and pray for  
something, *anything*, to come and save him from the nightmare he  
was living.  
  
What seemed like an eternity later, Akuyou  
reached his climax; he squeezed the boy's shoulders so  
tight that bruises formed. Kusanagi slumped between  
the older man's knees, gagging and retching, fighting  
to catch his breath. Akuyou held his head tenderly as  
he began vomiting into a wastebasket. "My sweet  
Mamo-kun," he whispered hoarsely, patting his back as  
he coughed and choked. "My sweet boy. . . . "  
  
Kusanagi violently jerked his mind away from the  
memory, trembling. He curled up into the fork of the  
tree's branches, fighting to stay calm. "Akuyou. . .  
."  
  
"Father?"  
  
It was Kaede. He leapt forward to see what was  
going on, stretching himself out on the bough with the  
precision of a cat. Kunikida, the Kushinada's human  
guardian, was slumped against the doorframe, his hat  
held loosely in his hands. "Father, what's wrong?"  
  
He sat on the edge of her bed, rubbing his  
temples with one hand. "There's been an Aragami  
infiltration into the government," he finally said.  
  
"What?" She stared at him, terrified. "Father,  
who was it? Is everything all right?"  
  
Kunikida hugged his adopted daughter, his eyes  
hard and angry. "It was Akuyou Fushi. The assistant  
head of the Ministry of Defense. We caught him  
stealing some of Matsudaira's lab samples this  
evening."  
He grimaced and rested his head against his clasped  
hands. "He admitted to being an Aragami sympathizer .  
. . then committed suicide."  
  
The young man drew back in horror. "It was  
poison. Apparently he had been prepared in case his  
activities were discovered. Matsudaira didn't know of  
any antidote to it; he died before we could get any  
information-"  
  
Kusanagi fell back into the tree's branches,  
ignoring the rest of the conversation Akuyou was  
dead? His mind reeled from the thought. Akuyou, the  
man who had always been there for him? Akuyou, the man  
who would comfort him and bandage his wounds after  
Orochi would beat him? The man he had considered a father,  
who he had trusted with  
every small secret his young mind could hold? The man  
who had held him, comforted him, patiently talked with  
him, explained things that Orochi could never  
understand? The man who had raped and molested him for  
over four years? Akuyou, the man he hated?  
  
Akuyou, the man that he loved?  
  
He sat among the branches, trying to comprehend  
what he had just heard. Akuyou was dead? How could he  
be? He had always seemed so strong, like a rock he  
could cling to in troubled waters. He stared blankly  
into the stormy night, wanting to break down and cry . . .   
  
. . . and realizing that he couldn't. The ache in his  
heart was overwhelming; he could feel the sobs trying  
to burst from his chest. But the tears that he so  
desperately wanted to shed were not there. Orochi had  
robbed him of his humanity; Akuyou had taken his  
innocence. And now the one thing that tied him to the  
human race was gone. They had stolen his tears, his  
cries, the last things he held dear, and left him with  
nothing but ashes. He wanted to weep, to mourn the  
loss of the only person in the world who had ever  
cared about him ... and he couldn't do it.  
  
And so Kusanagi sat out in the rain, letting the  
water roll over his face, letting the rain do for him  
that which he could no longer do.  
  
*~*  
  
Takeuchi growled angrily as one of the Aragami  
began to tie her hands and feet together. "You're not  
going to get away with this," she snapped, a wicked  
twinkle in her eyes.  
  
"And who's going to stop us? You?" He leaned down  
right into her face and gave her a grin full of  
jagged, rotting teeth. "Lord Murakumo has taken care  
of your friends already; now it's just the two of us.  
And I might just have me a little fun before I slit  
that pretty throat of yours."  
  
Takeuchi grinned at him; the unexpected reaction  
took him by surprise. "Dream on," she said as she  
kicked out of the ropes. Her foot smashed painfully  
into the Aragami's groin; he squealed like a pig as  
she ground his testicles up into his stomach. Leaving  
him behind to clutch his flattened genitals in agony,  
she scooped up her gun from the floor and burst into  
the infirmary-  
  
Where two of the Aragami had Momiji pinned  
between then, a heavy hand clamped over her mouth so  
she couldn't scream. The other two were busily  
wrecking the rest of the room; one had Kusanagi's limp  
body caught up by the throat. As the women watched, he  
threw the young man across the room where he crashed  
into the wall with a sickening crunch of bone. Verdant  
blood began to weep from his left arm, which was  
twisted at an impossible angle.   
  
Before Takeuchi's razor-sharp reflexes could kick  
in, Momiji bit the hand that was covering her mouth  
and began to scream. "Kusanagi! Leave him alone!  
*Kusanagi!!!*"  
  
The Aragami screamed as her mitama began blazing.  
Kusanagi began to cry out as his mitamas reacted to  
Momiji's light. The entire group stared at him,  
transfixed, as the blinding corona raised from the  
floor. He began screaming as the light enveloped him,  
eerie screams of sheer terror that seemed to radiate  
through the barriers of time. "Akuyou! Stop it!!" he  
cried out; Momiji began to moan as the light enveloped  
them both. One of the Aragami reached out to pull the  
Kushinada away and was blasted across the room by the  
field of light. "*AKUYOU*!!!!!"  
  
At that moment, a brilliant flash of light  
blinded the entire group; when it finally faded,  
Momiji was slumped on the floor, deathly pale and  
barely breathing. Takeuchi, spots still dancing about  
her vision, pulled her gun and aimed it at the Aragami  
across the room. "Stop right there!" she shouted, her  
finger firmly on the trigger. "Stop or I'll-"  
  
The Aragami she had left writhing on the floor  
struck her from behind. "Get the Kushinada and let's  
get out of here!" he screeched in a voice three  
octaves higher than normal.  
  
The remaining four Aragami quickly scooped up  
Momiji's unconscious body and fled out the open  
window, dashing away in the night. Takeuchi moaned as  
the leader pulled her head up by the hair to look at  
him. "I'm gonna go take care of the Kushinada for  
good," he growled, "but first I'm gonna make you pay  
for kicking me, bitch. I'm gonna make you-"  
  
The Aragami suddenly screamed in pain as  
something slashed across his throat. Behind him,  
Kusanagi swayed unsteadily, a blood-covered scalpel in  
one hand. "Where have they taken Momiji?" he growled  
hoarsely.  
  
He began gibbering in fear as Kusanagi slowly  
stalked closer towards him, his eyes blazing with  
fury. "You- you're supposed to be dead- I"  
  
"Where the hell did they take Momiji?" he  
repeated in a dangerously low tone. His mitamas glowed  
threateningly. "Talk. Now."  
  
"They- he-" He whimpered as Kusanagi picked up  
Takeuchi's gun and held it against his head. "The old  
Glico warehouse outside Yokohama. Lord Murakumo told  
us to- the ceramic field-"  
  
Kusanagi put the gun against the mitama in the  
man's forehead and pulled the trigger. The silencer on  
the gun muffled the worst of the noise; the lifeless  
body collapsed to the floor in a pool of blood and  
grey matter. Takeuchi, who had struggled to her feet,  
was there to catch the young man before he collapsed  
to his knees. "Kusanagi..?" she asked hesitantly.  
  
The young man opened his pained eyes to glare out  
the shattered window, ignoring the woman at his side.  
"Murakumo," he hissed under his breath. "I'm not going  
to let you have Momiji, you bastard. Even if it kills  
me, I'll protect the Kushinada." 


	6. Author's Notice

Well, there seems to be some demand here for the next chapter of Hidden Fires. It's coming, it's coming.... I just have to find it. =^_^;=  
  
You see, I wrote part of the final two chpters of Hidden Fires, 5 and 6, while studying in Japan. I had to take my own sets of computer disks with me, and I bought many more while there. So part of the chapter is on one disk, and the other part is on another disk. This would be easy to find and repair.... if I didn't have over three hundred floppy disks full of information on them. =^_^;;;= So I have to sort through them all and thry to find the two with the fics on them in between my heavy school schedule. The first chapters were easy because I had them stored on a Zip disk.... these aren't. =_=   
  
So patience, and I'll get the fic found ASAP. OK? =^_^;=  
  
LilTigre 


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